Breaking the Ice
by GoWashTheLights
Summary: John and Dorian face a wintry grave, and help may be too late. Short, Jorian. Oneshot.


**Author Note:** I keep wishing I could bring myself to write a Johnrie story. I think I'm just waiting for the A.H. writers to develop that relationship already, so I don't have to worry. For now, I stick to the world of Jorian. *HEART* This is just some dramafluff.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Almost Human, its characters, etc.

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A painful, embarrassing shudder washed through John's body, and he closed his eyes. This was his own fault; his obsession getting him into this. They'd been so close to her, to 'Anna', but she'd slipped brilliantly out of grasp. He still didn't even know her real name.

"John?" Dorian asked quietly. "The offer still stands - "

Reflexively, John shook his head. He wrapped his arms around himself, leaning towards the door - the cold, freezing, snow-blocked door. During the chase, the car had hit a nasty patch of black ice; it'd hit the bottom of the ditch before one could blink, and now half of it was slammed into a deep snow bank. Dorian had offered to break out, but "like hell" he was going to ruin John's car. They were miles out of town, but Dorian had immediately sent a rescue signal for help. Maldonado had given an estimate of an hour, with the weather conditions. That conversation had been _half_-an-hour ago.

John felt Dorian's gaze, and hesitantly glanced over. "I'll be fine." He shuddered again, weakening his argument. Dorian shook his head, and in a fluid movement was climbing in-between the seats. "Dorian, d-don't - "

"John, you don't have time for this," Dorian insisted. He turned around, settled in the back, and patted next to himself. "You're going to die if you don't let me help you." He busied himself with taking off his jacket, eyes still on his partner. Within minutes, John's lips would turn blue, he'd lose his internal heat...Dorian would lose _him._

"I..." John muttered. "This is going to be weird."

"No, it's going to save your life. I won't do anything weird, but I _will_ pull you back here by force, if necessary." Dorian raised his eyebrows seriously, and the wry chuckle that had escaped John's trembling lips died off. The man cleared his throat, realized that he had no alternative, and sighed.

"Fine." Wincing, he turned to crawl into the small space; now he knew how apprehended criminals felt. Dorian steadied him, and as John fell heavily against the seat, he shivered again. "How c-cold is it now?"

In response, Dorian took John's hands, and elevated the temperature coming from his own. He worked steadily, slowly, to prevent any more discomfort than was already present. He was just glad John hadn't been seriously injured, because keeping him warm _and_ conscious would be difficult. His eyes occasionally flickered to monitor John, though his partner seemed responsive each time. He still shook, his breath floating through the still air in uneven patches. Dorian decided to shift gears and said, "Put your hands in your pockets, and sit forward."

"...Why? What are you going to - "

"John," Dorian replied in mild exasperation. "Please, quit arguing."

A little surprised, John nodded and did as told. Dorian first flipped up the collar of John's jacket, then placed his own over it and did the same with that. He paused a moment, hands hovering, then continued his instructions. "I'm going to place my hand here," he brushed the front of John's shirt lightly. "I thought I'd warn you before hand, so you wouldn't worry."

John threw him an uneasy look. "Me? Worry? Never." He muttered, eyeing Dorian's actions. Carefully, a warm hand slipped under his shirt, and rested along his torso. He cleared his throat and looked out the window - not much of a view to distract himself. "_Now_ it's weird."

"I apologize, John. It's the best I can do."

When another thirty minutes had passed, Dorian decided it was time to contact Maldonado. It concerned him when she didn't answer, and the enduring silence began to eat at him. John was finally starting to nod off, and his lips were turning blue. He sat straight, determined to fight, but he was losing. The DRN knew the next step, but a part of him hesitated in executing it; John wasn't going to like it. "John," he called, "stay awake, and listen to me. Do you understand?"

John's eyes fluttered, then he looked at Dorian and asked, "H-How much longer?"

Dorian hated lying. "I'm...not sure. Soon, I hope. Until then, we need to try something else. Do you understand?" When John nodded, Dorian copied him. He moved closer, then risked pulling his hand out from John's shirt. It went to turn John's face toward him, and he said, "When I breathe out, you breathe in. Got it?"

"...What...?" John shook his head in confusion.

"Your oxygen is running out. I can give you a temporary fix, but you have to cooperate with me - _coordinate_ with me." Dorian rested his forehead against John's, then huffed slowly. John blinked, but he was compliant in taking a breath in. Dorian nodded and repeated himself, scooting just a bit closer. Suddenly he detected a skip in John's heart beat and pulled away, but the man seemed all right. A little off-guard, but fine. John kept trying to move his head away uncertainly, only for Dorian to pull him back.

"No, John," Dorian said after a fourth time. He firmly cupped his hand along John's jawline, and looked at him directly. "I know this is uncomfortable, but you have to do as I tell you."

"O-Okay," John whispered, "Sorry. I'm just tired...really tired..." There was a note of desperation in his voice, which faded as quickly as it'd come. Dorian wondered if John was scared. He himself was starting to feel something like it, but more of an alertness for the task at hand. One more half-hour gone, and Maldonado still hadn't answered. The connection wasn't that great, and Dorian was now running low on energy.

Finally, Dorian realized that things had turned for the worse. John began to mumble and slur, and his shivering had nearly stopped. He drew the last of the unsteady breaths he'd been taking from Dorian, then shut his eyes, and let his head slump. "John," Dorian called, his voice loud in the silent vehicle. "John, wake up - not _now,_" he hissed. "Where are they?"

John wouldn't wake. His heart was slowing, and his frame unnaturally still. Dorian didn't hesitate in taking action - he moved John onto his back, positioned his head, and began CPR. It looked rather adulterated, with him hovering close on hands and knees, but it didn't matter. He kept it going until John finally gave a weak, drawn breath, and Dorian smiled in relief. "Don't give up, John."

"...Dorian..." John sighed. He tried to sit up, to shift his weight, but he was too tired. Dorian helped him up, still providing him with oxygen. _ What's going on? Where are we now?_ He thought. He felt like he was delusional. "...Going home..."

"Not yet, John. We'll be home, soon." Dorian was out of time. His charge was only at ten percent, and he had a choice to make. He had to keep John warm, who still struggled to breath. He was exhausted, teetering close to unconsciousness, and hardly responsive. Dorian finally bundled and zipped up both jackets, and with finality pressed his lips to John's. Oxygen was more important now, and he had to preserve it the best he could.

John's eyes flew open once he realized what had happened. He was taking in more air from Dorian now, his mind becoming a little more clear - enough to understand. Dorian was practically kissing him, and he didn't even care. He raised a heavy hand to Dorian's face and closed his eyes, unable to help the movement of his lips. Perhaps he was the one doing the kissing.

"R'lax, John," Dorian mumbled. There could have been amusement in his voice, but John wasn't sure. "Just breathe. Nothing...else. Breathe."

"Mmf," John replied. He tried to do as asked, but his lips were on their own will. If he was going to die, this wouldn't be a bad way to end it. "'S okay..."

"What?" Dorian asked.

John pulled away, his hand still resting on the side of Dorian's face. His eyes were twitching frantically, and he said again, "It's okay."

Dorian took a moment to understand. He finally nodded, leaned back in, and this time it _was_ a kiss. It was sweet, intimate, one they'd probably never share again. As Dorian transferred the last of his reserves, he heard two things before he finally shut down.

_"We found it, right here!"_

_"...Dorian. Thanks, man."_

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_So, did you like? Kind of a strange fic, but I liked writing it. If you would, please leave a review. *humble bow!* It keeps me motivated to write more fluff! _


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